


The First First Time

by Merlin Missy (mtgat)



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: Gen, M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2005
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-25
Updated: 2005-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtgat/pseuds/Merlin%20Missy





	The First First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fairy_tale_echo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy_tale_echo/gifts).



It's that time again.

The funny thing is, if I told Lily about this, she'd say it's becoming a new urban  
ritual with me: finish dinner, make sure the kids have done their homework, sit  
them down, and tell them another piece of this crazy story. Lily'd say it was the  
equivalent of the way old cultures used to pass down myths and legends from  
generation to generation, huddled around campfires listening to the wolves. Of  
course, Lily says that about almost everything these days, ever since she went  
back to grad school to get that anthropology degree and took up with that  
"womyn's group."

So hey, maybe I _am_ participating in some ancient rite of passage. That'd  
be kind of cool, mystic even. Except I don't think all those ancient tribes and  
cultures ever sat around telling their young warriors about Mom and Pop getting  
wasted on jello shots. Or maybe they did. I should sit in on one of Lily's classes  
one of these days.

The kids are in front of me, with matching half-interested, half-bored looks on  
their faces, and I get that.

But it's important, all of it, for them and for me, so I sit back in my chair and I  
pull up the memories of those weird days, and it's like I'm back there.

"Did I ever tell you the story of how I met your Uncle Barney?"

"You said you met him in the men's room at the bar," says my daughter.

"That was the second time."

My son adds, "You're supposed to be telling us how you met Mom."

"I'm getting to it," I say. "But you have to understand how I first met Uncle  
Barney so I can get to how I met your mother."

They both sigh and sit back.

"Remember when I told you Uncle Marshall and I were roommates in college?"

"Yeah."

***

Something hit me, not hard. I rolled over in bed to find Marshall's pillow half-  
smothering me.

"What?"

Marshall muttered, "You're talking in your sleep again."

"Was not."

"Were so."

"Fine. I'll have quieter dreams from now on."

"Great."

"As soon as you stop snoring."

"I do not snore," said Marshall.

"Yes, you do."

This was a pretty typical exchange with us the first year, in between: "It's not my  
turn to buy beer," "Can you refill Shocky?" and "Domino's or Pizza Hut?" But it  
also woke me up, so I got to lie in bed while Marshall went back to sleep,  
thinking about nothing much and everything, too.

My girlfriend Kayla from highschool had just phoned me to say she wanted to  
see other people. Since I'd been seeing other people for over a month at that  
point, I guess I couldn't complain, but it still hurt.

So now I was awake and all I had to think about was Kayla and about why she  
didn't want to see me anymore. Okay, so living three hundred miles away from  
each other probably didn't help, but I took it personally anyway.

"Dear Ted," (said her letter) "How are you? I am fine. Field hockey's been going  
great. We've won all our games so far this spring. Ted, there's something I want  
to tell you and I don't know how to say it. I think we should see other people. I  
don't want to hurt you, but that's how I feel right now. I miss being your friend. I  
hope classes are going okay with you. Sincerely, Kayla."

I remember it was a Thursday when I got the letter, and I remember that the  
"Sincerely" hurt more than anything else.

Friday morning, I got up after not having slept at all (thanks, Marshall) and went  
to class.

***

Did I ever tell you that I started out as a physics major?

I sat in the classroom staring blankly at the double-tiered blackboard. The prof  
was a young guy, only ten years out of college at most, and half the girls in the  
class were writing his name with hearts in their notebooks.

I don't actually remember his name now.

Professor Anonymous was trying to explain something about how "I" equaled a  
rotational vector of something, and I just couldn't follow him. At all. Maybe it  
was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the crushing depression, but when he put up  
the overhead with the figure skater, showing the math on why she went faster or  
slower depending on if her arms were in or out, all I saw was Kayla in that cute  
little skirt and skates.

Professor Anonymous turned off the overhead projector and started scribbling on  
the blackboard. And then he called on me for the answer.

"Um. Pi?"

He glared at me and the class laughed and it was then that I knew I was changing  
my major.

To English.

Professor Anonymous, Professor Even More Anonymous, and Professor Myers  
(she was hot and I still have her picture somewhere) piled on the homework that  
Friday. Like all good, conscientious college students, Marshall and I wrote down  
our homework assignments and got the books we needed from the library before  
it closed, and spent the evening in our room getting all of our work out of the  
way before we did anything else that weekend.

Or we would have. Really.

***

Lily knocked on the door and opened it without asking. "What are you guys  
doing?"

Marshall was constructing a scale-model replica of the dorm with his playing  
cards, and I was digging under my bed, looking for quarters for the laundry.

"Homework," I said.

"Hi, Lily," said Marshall, accidentally knocking over all his cards.

"Guys, there's a party tonight in my sorority house. You're coming, right?"

Now the important thing to know about right here is that Lily wasn't actually in  
the sorority yet. She was trying to pledge Phi Sigma, which meant she wore what  
the other girls told her to wear and had to bark at random times whenever the  
upperclassmen told her to bark. Lily always said going out half-naked in the  
snow to bark at the Alpha Phi Alphas at midnight was still better than living in  
freshman housing.

Marshall jumped up from his chair, knocking it over. "We'd love to!"

"I dunno," I said. "I've got a lot of physics homework this weekend."

"You can do it tomorrow," Marshall said. "C'mon, it'll be great! It'll get your  
mind off Kayla and everything!"

Which was fantastic, as I had managed not to think of her at all for over an hour  
until Marshall said something.

"Fine," I said, grabbing my jacket from the closet.

"What are you doing?" asked Lily.

"Getting my jacket. It's cold out there tonight."

"You guys aren't going dressed like that, right?"

"Like what?" Marshall asked.

Lily looked at his sweater and chinos and then at my ratty t-shirt and jeans.  
"You're changing. You need to look hot."

A suspicion crossed my mind then. "Lily, why are you asking us?"

"'Cause you're my friends and I like you."

"And?"

"Because I need to bring at least two freshmen guys with me to the party and  
you're the only guys I know who aren't already going?" She added a hopeful  
smile to the pleading in her voice.

"Wait," said Marshall. "This isn't a Geek Party, is it?"

"No! Just a party. And they want more guys so we all have to bring guys. Will  
you be my guys?"

I looked at Marshall and he looked at me.

"We'll be your guys," said Marshall.

"Great! Now, about those clothes ... "

***

Nothing in our closets made Lily happy, and we ended up wearing the same  
clothes we wore all day, except she had me put on a nicer t-shirt and a dark vest.  
No jacket.

"You look better," said Lily.

"I look stupid," I said.

"Party!" said Marshall, but he'd chugged a beer back in our room to get in the  
mood.

Ace of Base blared from the house as we walked up to the door.

***

My daughter asks, "Who's Ace of Base?"

"Imagine ABBA, only with a better beat."

"Who's ABBA?" asks my son.

***

So there was music coming out of the sorority house, and we started to follow  
Lily in when the girl at the door stopped us. "Ten bucks," she said. "Hey,  
Molly."

"Lily," said Lily.

"Ten bucks," said the girl again.

"What?" I asked.

Marshall said, "Lily invited us."

"Great!" said the girl, and she smiled. "Ten bucks. Cover."

I glared at Lily, who shrugged, and then got out my wallet. I had the ten bucks,  
but it was my pizza fund for the weekend. I gave it to the girl.

"I don't have ten bucks," said Marshall.

"Then have a great night!" said the girl, pointing back towards the street.

"Ted?"

"Do you have _any_ money?" I asked.

Marshall dug through his pockets, coming up with one dollar bill and three  
dollars in quarters.

I found two more dollars and handed them to him. "Lily, can you lend him any?"

"Hold on," said Lily, running inside.

"Out of the way," said the girl, as other guys pushed by with cash in hand, getting  
their wristbands.

"Great fundraiser," said Marshall. "Invite guys to the sorority and make them pay  
to come inside."

The girl glared at him. "Now it's twenty."

"What?"

"Sorry, dude," I said. "I'll meet you in there."

The girl put her hand on my chest. "For each of you."

"I already paid!" I said.

"You're not wearing a wristband."

"You never gave me one!"

Lily came back out. "Okay, I've got four bucks for Marshall."

"Now we need twenty-four," said Marshall.

"What?" Lily turned to the girl. "Stacy?"

"Forty bucks or they don't get in."

"The cover's ten!" Stacy was a foot taller than Lily, but Lily stood on her tiptoes  
yelling. "And Ted already paid!"

"Where's his wristband, then?"

Lily looked at me. "Ted, where's your wristband?"

"She never gave me one!"

"That's his story," said Stacy.

I was starting to really dislike Stacy.

"I've got money back in my room," Marshall said.

"Can you go get it?" Lily asked.

"Maybe. Hey, Stacy, how much is it to get it?"

Stacy looked at him. "For you? Now? Thirty."

"Right. Ted, let's get pizza."

I said, "Not until I get in or get my ten bucks back."

Stacy took money from two football-types (ten each) and smiled sweetly at me as  
she handed them wristbands. "You'll need thirty bucks to get in."

"I already gave you ten! You're only charging them ten!"

"Now it's forty."

"Bitch."

"Eighty."

"Hey!"

"Want to make it an even hundred?"

"Stacy," said Lily. "We've got ten for Marshall and you've got ten from Ted.  
Won't you please just let ... " She pushed Stacy over and shouted: "Run!"

Marshall and I ran through the open door behind the football players. Stacy  
shouted something I couldn't hear at Lily, but we were already inside, heading  
towards the middle of the party.

"All right!" said Marshall, starting to dance with the nearest girl he saw.

I grinned and headed for the back, where the beer table was set up.

"Beer me, beautiful," I said to the long-haired lady bent over away from the table.

Who stood up and turned out to be a long-haired man.

"Sorry, dude. Can I have a beer?"

"Three bucks," he said, spraying the beer from the keg into a red plastic cup.

Dammit, I thought. "I just gave all my money to Stacy."

"Then no beer. Sorry." The guy looked at my hands. "Hey, where's your  
wristband?"

I turned from the table and managed to bury myself in the crowd.

***

She was the third girl I danced with that night, and the first to keep dancing when  
the music slowed down. We grabbed a spot on the couch, squeezing both of us  
in a space barely big enough for just me, holding hands and kind of laughing at  
each other.

"What's your name?" I asked her, my face a few inches away from hers.

"Donna. What's yours?"

I had a chance to be anyone, some darkly mysterious man who came into her life  
one night at a party, leaving her breathless in the morning with a false name.

"Ted."

I wasn't really up for "darkly mysterious" tonight.

"Nice to meet, you, Ted," Donna said. Her breath smelled like beer when I  
leaned in towards her, reminding me of how much I wanted one, and also of how  
Kayla tasted when we'd been drinking. I tilted my head down and she ended up  
kissing me between my eyes.

"Um," she said, pulling back. "That was weird."

"Sorry," I said.

"I know! I mean, it's my fault."

"No, it's me."

She shrugged. "Sort of, I guess. But I should stop trying to kiss gay guys."

And for a full ten seconds, I was looking around for the gay guy.

"What?" I pulled back. "I'm not gay."

Donna stared at me, a little smile on her face. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I think I'd know."

"Oh my God," she said, laughing. "I'm sorry!"

"Well, you should be," I said, settling back away from her. The other two  
couples on the couch poked back

"I thought you knew," said Donna.

"I don't know! I'm not gay!" I said, probably way too loud, and tried to stand up.

Donna grabbed my hand. "Ted, there's nothing wrong with it. This is the '90's."

"I know! It's okay. I mean, I'm not gay. Why do you keep saying I'm gay?"

She shrugged again. "I'm usually right about these things. And you're pretty  
easy. You came in with a guy."

"He's my roommate!"

"And you've got the whole 'white shirt and black vest' ensemble going. Couldn't  
afford the leather pants?"

"Lily made me wear this."

"Ah. Is she your girlfriend?"

"Well, no. She's ... " I hadn't seen Lily in a while. She'd been hiding in the  
crowd with us for a while. "She's a friend."

"But you have a girlfriend?"

"We broke up."

"Right. Ted, it's okay to admit you're confused."

"I'm not confused!" I walked away from her. I wanted a beer, and I wanted a girl  
to kiss and show I wasn't gay.

Donna came up to me across the room.

"Do you want to prove it to yourself?" she asked.

"I don't need to prove it to myself."

She grabbed me by the collar of my t-shirt, pulled me in, and stuck her tongue  
right into my mouth. I flailed, choking, and just as I got my hands near to her  
shoulders, she pushed me away.

"Oh yeah," she said, rolling her eyes and wiping her mouth. "You're totally gay."

"I wasn't ready! Give me another try!"

She sighed. "Okay, do you really want to prove to yourself you're not gay?"

"I'm not gay!" I shouted. Heads were turning towards us. Heads that had  
wristbands attached to their bodies. "I'm not gay!" I hissed.

"Come on," she said, grabbing my hand and leading me off. We made it to the  
doors leading upstairs, where two girls sat, bored, in folding chairs beside the  
door.

"Donna?" said one of them.

"He's with me," said Donna, and we went past them.

Lily was still a pledge, like I said, and I'd never been to the sorority house before.  
We walked up a nice staircase, with potted plants by the windows, and to the  
upstairs.

I was being dragged into Heaven. In this house, in the bathroom we passed, girls  
showered and dressed and giggled, all naked or barely-clothed and together.  
They had pillow fights, and gave each other massages and rubbed lotion on one  
another.

Well, they probably did when there wasn't a party going on downstairs, anyway.

And I was coming into their realm. I was gonna do it with a sorority girl in the  
sorority house, to prove to her I wasn't gay.

"In here," Donna said.

It was a big room, covered with posters of Monet prints and Mickey Mouse (one  
Mickey Mouse was flipping me off). "This your room?"

"Mmm hmm. Wait here." And she left me alone in her room. I sat on the floral  
comforter. I put my hand up to my mouth, trying to smell my own breath. I  
didn't have any protection with me and I hoped she did.

***

"Dad?" asks my daughter, looking a little grossed out.

"Wait," I say.

***

Donna came back in the room with another guy: blond hair, wearing a neat suit.

"Barney," said Donna, "have you met Ted?"

"No," said Barney. Donna poked him in the arm. "Hi." He stuck out his hand. I  
took it and shook it.

 _Oh my God,_ I thought. _She wants to do a threesome._

"This is the deal," Donna said, smiling and standing back and resting her hand on  
her dresser. "He's gay. I want you to kiss him. Really kiss him. And then, if  
you don't feel anything, you're straight. Got it?"

"Got it," I said at the same time Barney did.

 _Barney,_ I thought. _He even sounds gay._

Barney sat on the bed beside me, staring at me. Up close, he wasn't too bad  
looking. Kind of dorky. He looked a little like that young kid who was a doctor  
on that tv show. I swallowed.

"I've ... " I started.

"No talking!" Donna said. "This is all about passion. Now lean in and kiss him."

I looked at him. He looked back at me. I saw him lick his lips, and that was  
weird. I tilted my head to the left, and he tilted the same way, and I kind of  
laughed and he tilted his head the other way and then we kissed.

I didn't think my mouth was open, but there his tongue was, rubbing the edges of  
mine. I tried to breathe, tried to keep my lips out of the way of my teeth and his  
teeth too. Instinct told me to keep my jaw moving, keep my tongue loose but  
pressing, just like kissing a girl. I didn't know what to do with my hands, if I was  
supposed to hold him or what. His arms snaked around, and then planted  
themselves on my chest, squeezing.

***

My son looks disgusted. My daughter looks a little intrigued.

***

I pulled back. "Hey!"

"Sorry, man," he said. "Habit." He turned to look at Donna. "Not gay."

"Of course I'm not gay," I said, kind of huffy.

"I meant me."

"No, you meant ..." I stopped. "Wait."

Donna grinned. "And cut!"

We turned, and there was a little snicker from the closet. Three girls came  
bursting out. One had a little camcorder in her hand, and was checking the  
window.

"How did it turn out?" asked Donna.

"Best one tonight," said the girl with the camcorder. The other two girls kept  
looking at us and laughing.

"What?!" said the guy, straightening his suit.

Donna grinned. "Congratulations, boys, you gave the best gay kiss we've gotten  
all night!"

"I'm not gay!" I said.

"Neither am I," said the guy. "I like the lay-dees."

"That's not what this says," said the girl. "Take a look."

Donna peeked over her hand. "That's adorable! Great work, guys!"

I demanded, "What do you do with those tapes?"

"Keep 'em," said one of the other girls.

Her friend said, "Show them around." She grinned.

I looked at Barney. Barney looked at me. He looked to be about my age, another  
freshman just trying to fit in, and these sorority chicks were going to show us  
kissing all over campus. He quirked an eyebrow at me. I nodded back.

After you've kissed a guy, you know things.

He rushed Camcorder Chick and Donna, grabbing the camera and tossing it to  
me. I fumbled it and then held tight. One arm out, I dashed for the door, Barney  
and the girls right after me.

Down the stairs, we ran past the girls on duty beside the stairwell. I shouted to  
Marshall and Lily as we pushed through people on our way out the door. They  
looked up from where they were making out on the couch, saw me, saw Barney,  
saw the girls, and dashed after me, just ahead of the girls.

We made it outside. Marshall pushed Stacy over onto her butt, although she  
wasn't really in his way, and the four of us outran the sorority chicks by three  
dorms.

Panting, tired, we fell down, on knees and asses, to the cold, hard ground.

"What the hell, Ted?" asked Marshall.

"Lily," I said, when I wasn't going to puke from running so hard, "why'd you  
bring us to the party?"

"They said we had to bring freshman guys. I told you." She looked tired and  
pissed off, and I think Marshall spilled beer on her when they got up from the  
couch.

"Your name is Ted?" asked Barney.

"Yeah."

He grabbed the camera from my hands. Then he took his first two fingers,  
pointed to his eyes and then to mine, back and forth. "Ted. Ted. Ted. Ted.  
This? Never happened."

Then he grabbed the tape out of the camera, handed the camcorder back to me,  
and stomped on the tape until it was destroyed. Then he picked up the ruined  
tape and stuffed it into his pocket, did the fingers thing again without speaking,  
and stalked off into the night.

"Who was that?" asked Lily.

"What never happened?" asked Marshall.

"I have no idea."

***

Lily didn't get in to the sorority. Apparently Stacy got mad at being pushed over,  
and someone saw Lily running with us. Sucks too, since she even convinced me  
to give her the camcorder so she could return it. Lily lived in the dorms the rest  
of college, and hey, it made it easier for her to start seeing Marshall, so I guess  
she can't complain much.

I never saw the guy again. During college, anyway.

***

Sometimes you just have to accept the weirdness of the second first time you  
meet someone. I was at the bar, in a booth, having drinks with two friends whose  
names I can't remember now, and he slid in beside me and put his arm around  
me.

"Ted, I'm gonna teach you how to live." I stared at him. "Barney. We met at the  
urinal."

"Oh, right, right," I said. Quick conversation, nothing big. He'd started talking to  
me in the bathroom and I'd responded because he'd seemed familiar. Still did,  
though I couldn't place him.

"Lesson one: lose the goatee. It doesn't go with your suit."

He went through a few more "rules," standard Barney so-called wisdom. We  
talked, and after my friends left, we kept talking. Well, he talked and I drank. I  
was comfortable with him, which was weird. I pegged it up to the familiar  
feeling, and maybe it was, a little, but the truth is, I was always comfortable with  
him.

And then he did the fingers thing and I knew who he was.

"Barney. You're Barney." I couldn't stop the smile.

"We established that."

"No. I mean from college. Camcorder? Donna?" And I'd been comfortable  
with him then, too, flailing my arms around, my lips against his wondering if this  
was just another part of the college experience or if I was starting down a whole  
new path in my life. I'd been with Barney, and I was okay.

He glared at me. "What part of 'never happened' can't you process, Ted?  
Anyway, as I was saying, half-Asian chicks are the bomb."

He wouldn't let me bring it up with him again. And I guess I never really tried.  
You can only have your first kiss with someone once, but if you can put up with  
him, you can have your best friendship for the rest of your life.

***

"That's so sweet!" says my daughter.

My son says, "Can we _please_ get to the part where you met Mom?"

"Soon," I promise. "But not tonight. And tomorrow, I have to tell you about a  
very important time when your Uncle Marshall and I went camping."

***  
End  
***

  



End file.
